


Two Mistakes Don’t Make a Date… But Three Do

by arazialotis



Category: Actor RPF, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arazialotis/pseuds/arazialotis
Summary: Just a quick oneshot about the reader attending a wedding of an old friend and meets Jensen at the reception.





	Two Mistakes Don’t Make a Date… But Three Do

It was hot, humid, and cloudless the evening of your friend’s wedding. Well, “friend” may have been an overstatement. You had known each other since you were three, but after high school you had drifted apart. You had met her fiancé a few times and were quite simply, unimpressed. She had always been graceful, pure of heart, talented and you thought she deserved so much more. So despite your bitter feelings towards her one and only, and the fact that you hated weddings in general, you felt obliged to attend for whatever memories of the past that the both of you held onto.

That was your first mistake. Your second had been not to find or invite a date, even if it had just been a coworker or friend. Sure there were other people from high school attending including some old friends, but you were shocked that no one seemed to aspire to branch out of their old cliques. And even with your own group, you shared nothing in common with them, making it difficult to even have the slightest meaningful conversation. Your third mistake was visiting the bar in hopes to lighten up, become more socially at ease. Except you visited it again…. and again… and again.

By this time counting mistakes had left your mind all together and you had become more concerned with tearing up the dance floor. Honestly, who could resist the Cha Cha Slide followed by the Cupid Shuffle - sober or not? Afterwards, you found your way back to the bar and outside to the balcony overlooking a golf course, the array of colors slowly evaporating as the night sky truly settled in. Although you could still hear the thumping from the DJ’s speakers on the balcony, the fresh air and choir of crickets helped the world stop spinning. You sat yourself on the edge of the stone ledge as you paused, taking in the moment.

Another body came out of the French doors onto the balcony and leaned over the side taking in the view. It took you a moment to recognize the figure but the moment you put it together in your head, there was no denying it.

“Jensen fucking Ackles.” You stated, the liquor making you brave. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He turned around to meet your eyes, initially concerned he’d be subjected to another photo op or another half hour of fan theory conversation, but when he saw the state of you he simply laughed. You couldn’t interpret if it was condescendingly or if he was just amused.

“Old friend of the groom, mandatory appearance.” He responded.

“Same story, except for the bride.” You explained unprompted.

“You doing okay?” He asked concerned.

You took another swig of the drink before questioning. “Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He asked again confused.

“Your question, it’s pretty loaded.” You rambled.

“I do.” He replied intrigued.

“Well, other than drowning my discontentment for weddings with whatever this concoction is, pretty alright I’d say.” You spouted out.

He laughed again. “And dare I ask you to explain your discontentment?” He inquired obviously entertained.

Had you not been intoxicated you would have made something up, came on softly, or changed the subject, but you had long since lost your ability to lie. “Let’s start with being reminded of heartbreak, the crippling feeling of loneliness, their perfect life being rubbed in my face, and the only thing that could come from meeting a guy here would be a quick and unsatisfying shag in a storage closet simply because you glanced at him once.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows surprised, and took a small sip of his own drink. “Wow. That was quite the mouthful. And you hardly even stumbled over any words.”

“Thanks, I’ve been practicing.” You joked.

“Hey, but I’m sure you have a lot going for you. You’re still young, enjoy it while it lasts.” He tried to encourage you.

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed, about to reach for another drink when the world suddenly titled.

Jensen immediately reached for you, wrapping his arm around your back to support you up. “Woah, woah. Let’s go get a drink of water.” He suggested.

Now that he was up close you looked deep into his green eyes tinted with gold, you could see the crinkles at his eye and the freckles that dusted his face. He smelled of sandalwood and scotch. He held you steady until the world realigned itself again with your center of gravity all the while you studied his features.

“You know, I’ve glanced at you more than once this evening.” You lousily attempted to hit on him.

Jensen responded with a nervous laugh. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, sweetheart.”

His words stung. You came down from the ledge, finding your two feet again and started walking back to the reception.

“And where are you going?” Jensen asked you.

“To dance on a table and look for a man different from your type.” You said slowly to see if he would respond.

“Enlighten me. What kind of man am I?” He questioned, hoping to keep you talking as he scheduled an Uber on his phone.

“Arrogant, conceited, cocky, and egocentric are just a few words to begin.” At this point you didn’t know if you were testing his boundaries or trying to make his rejection less painful.

“You’re quite eloquent for being so far gone.” He pressed his lips together trying not to take your words personally. “You really think you’re going to find anyone different in there?”

“Probably someone less judgy.” You tried to strike back.

“And someone willing to take advantage of you.” He paused, hoping his words would sink in. “Come with me.” He instructed and reach out his hand hoping it would encourage you.

You stood watching him, knowing he was right, but unwilling to move.

“Listen, from what you’ve just told me, I know you don’t really want to go back in there. So please, just come with me.” Jensen asked again, his arm still reached out.

You hesitantly walked towards him and grabbed his hand allowing him to save you from another mistake this evening. He lead you to another door that let you slip past the reception unnoticed. He stopped at the country club’s restaurant and grabbed a few bottles of water before taking you to the roundabout to wait for the Uber.

The last thing you remembered was Jensen constantly reminding you to take sips of water, hopping in the Uber, and pulling out your ID so he could help you tell your address to the driver. After he took the ID from you to try and decipher what you were saying, you passed out on his lap.

What you didn’t remember is the way he smiled looking down at you, thinking you were the most adorable and hilarious thing he had encountered for a while. You didn’t remember him waking you up, telling the driver to wait for a few minutes, and coaxing you up the stairs. You didn’t remember why he was giggling so much while you were looking for you keys unaware they were the first thing you pulled out of your purse and handed them to him. You didn’t remember him forcing you to drink another bottle of water before he’d let you fall asleep again. When you lied down and passed out again on your bed, you didn’t remember him taking off your heels before he looked around your room trying to get a quick glimpse of your life.

You didn’t remember him pulling a blanket over you and brushing the hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead and whisper good night.

You woke to a dry throat and a heartbeat pounding in your head. You looked around your own room, disoriented at first about how you made it back. There was a full bottle of water and a few tablets of aspirin on your nightstand. After taking a couple of swigs and downing the pills some of the night came back to you, though you knew other memories would be lost for good. Of course, the first and only time you would ever run into someone like Jensen Ackles, you were a drunk fool. The only thing you could do was laugh at yourself, imagining what impression you must have left on him.

Setting the water bottle back down you curiously noticed a piece of paper next to it. You grabbed it reading:

If you’d like to find out the type of man I truly am…  
I’ll be at The Sparrows with two cups of coffee at 3.  
\- J


End file.
